


A Better Version

by thatoneavengingarcher



Category: 36 Questions (Podcast), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Angst, Chidi is the goodest of boys™, Eleanor is NOT a good person, F/M, Fake Names, Fluff, For reference Diana Tremaine is Eleanor & her fake id name, I'll update tags as needed lol, Lying About Past, dogs!!!, not Donna Shellstrop, obv this is an AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatoneavengingarcher/pseuds/thatoneavengingarcher
Summary: No one wants to let go. No one wants to quit. That's human nature; to persevere and keep going even when things look futile and bleak.Then why did I? Why did I give up on Eleanor Shellstrop? And why did Diana Tremaine exist?-A 36 Questions style AU of Cheleanor. When Eleanor meets Chidi in the park by chance, he asks her on a date. He follows that up with "What's your name?"The name that comes out of Eleanor's mouth isn't her own, but the worst part comes when she doesn't correct herself.Knowledge of 36 Questions isn't needed, and frankly, the less is known, the better. All info that is needed is that Eleanor's a liar and of course, problems ensue.
Relationships: Chidi Anagonye/Diana Tremaine, Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop
Kudos: 7





	1. My Life Started

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! AJ here. I have reallyyyyyy gotten into the good place recently (only seen up to s3, so no spoilers please!!!) and whilst listening to 36 Questions, The Podcast Musical, I had the idea for a Cheleanor fic. I'm excited to roll it out! I have to warn y'all that one chapter may roll out every week due to my hectic schedule, but I am pumped to work on this fic! 
> 
> Some notes:  
> • As stated in the tags, when I refer to 'Diana Tremaine,' I'm referring to Eleanor Shellstrop, not Donna Shellstrop. Think of it as her Bad Place Demon persona from 2x10. 
> 
> • The format for this fic is going to be a bit weird. It's meant to be as if it's being recorded by Eleanor's voice memo app, so you only get dialogue + what can be heard. For reference, Eleanor's dialogue has no marking, Chidi's is in brackets [ ], and anything else that can be heard is in asterisks * *. 
> 
> • We jump between two points in time (past "Diana" and present Eleanor), so make sure you pay attention to the dates + locations! ;)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! I thrive on feedback, esp. bc I'm new to this fandom + am used to writing for musicals, so I'd like to know what y'all think!! 
> 
> *Fic title and chapter titles inspired by "A Better Version" from 36 Questions* 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy "A Better Version" ;) 
> 
> xx  
> AJ

𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦; 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘬. 

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵? 

-

June 18, 2019  
Economy Seating Bathroom  
American Airlines Flight 919 from Phoenix, AZ to Sydney, Australia 

For the record: 

I am a liar.  
I am the best liar I know.  
It has been my word against the world for 37 years, and every time I have won.  
I’ve gained many things from my mendacity. (He taught me that word; how wonderfully ironic).  
I’ve gained free birthday drinks, Walmart dresses, cars, freedom and innocence.  
I’ve gained love.  
I’ve gained 𝘩𝘪𝘮.  
For the first time in my life, the world’s word won.  
And I’ve lost the only person who loved me. 

Scratch that.  
I’ve lost one of the many people who loved 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢.  
But he was the only one that mattered. 

-

December 15, 2016  
Camperdown Park  
Sydney, Australia 

For the record: 

What up fuckwads, this is Eleanor. Like always. Why do I say fuckwads? It's only me that listens to these recordings anyway. Besides the point! For the record, this is my Thursday jog. I'm running through Camperdown Park, and oh shit - 

*muffled fumbling and the sound of a phone hitting the ground* 

Hey watch where you're going dickwad! A piece of ass like me can't take a hit! Damn people running while looking at their phones. Should've seen me while 𝘐’𝘮 running while looking at my phone. 

So I'm starting to rethink this whole thing; this whole moving-to-Australia thing. It's just not working out. I can’t seem to find a job where my assets fit best - lying of course - and it is really fucking weird driving on the left side of the road. I’m in an apartment by a college so all the dudes are interested in college girls and all the college girls are into dudes with bald heads. My rent is skyrocketing and moving back to the US to face...all those consequences just isn’t an option. 

I’m in hell and I’m stuck here. 

Anyways, onto less depressing topics. I’m doing fine actually. None of those things bother me, whatsoever. What’s a Shellstrop without a little perseverance? 

Future Eleanor, I bet you didn’t even catch onto the fact that I was 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, you sexy idiot. I’m such a masterful liar. Too bad that’s not a priority job requirement here in Australia. 

You know, honestly, I bet I can finesse the bartender at that American themed bar around the corner to let me just make a few drinks, it won’t- 

*the sound of running stops* 

Holy shitballs, it’s a dog! 

*the sound of running starts up, harder than before* 

Hey man, can I pet your dog? 

[Oh, um, of course, go ahead!]

For the record, this dog is the cutest thing I have ever seen. Let me just, uh, sit down- 

*grunting* 

Okay, here we go. Come on girl, you’re gonna get pet really good. Hey, man you alright up there? For the record, the dude that owns this dog looks like he has a stomach-

[It’s my friend’s dog, Sheila, alright? It’s not my dog! I’m taking care of her while he’s gone because she’s really sickly, and I just didn’t want you to go get coffee with me one day and ask where she is and then have it be awkward when I break it to you that she isn’t mine. Also, lying is pretty unethical and breaks the moral code I follow, and moral philosophy is pretty important to me as I’m a moral philosophy professor and-]

Slow your roll there, partner. It’s okay. I’m just admiring her. Also - you want to ask me to coffee? 

[I, uh, uh-]

For the record, this surprisingly sexy philosophy nerd is blushing pretty damn hand right now. 

[What’s it with you and this record?]

It helps me organize my thoughts. Lets me know what I was thinking when I do dumb shit, and also helps me capture golden moments like this. But cut to the chase, are you asking me to coffee? Because if you are, my answer is yes. 

[Well, my name is Chidi Anagonye, and I am asking you to go get coffee with me.  
What’s your name?]

*a small beat of silence* 

Diana. Diana Tremaine. 

-

June 18, 2016  
Economy Seating Bathroom  
American Airlines Flight 919 from Phoenix, AZ to Sydney, Australia

For the record: 

I don’t know why I said that.  
I don’t know why I decided that I was Diana. Diana Tremaine.  
But I do know one thing. 

At that point in my life, I was ashamed of who I was; where I came from.  
What I had done, and my word that cleared me of it. 

And that hand.  
That damned hand he held out to me.  
It dangled everything that I had wanted, but failed to find in Australia.

A chance to wipe my ledger, clean the slate, get rid of all the horrible things I’ve done.  
No one could love me.  
But Diana?  
The whole world loved her. 

-


	2. Questions 1 - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part ? of the date, and Eleanor's thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 took forever because mustering up the courage to write is hard, lol. Hope you enjoy and if you do, please leave kudos/a comment! 
> 
> Xx
> 
> AJ

December 17, 2016  
Little Lord Cafe  
Sydney, Australia

For the record:

Me and Professor Ana-

[Again, Diana, you don’t have to call me Professor!]

I think it’s hot, so I'm going to keep doing it. Me and Professor Anagonye here are sitting in the Little Lord Cafe. He’s on his lunch break, I’m on my eternal, jobless lunch break - and we are about to answer something he has brought for us to do. What’s it called, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳?

[For the record, I am eye rolling so hard right now. But, what I have for us is called, “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴,” and in basic terms, it is 36 questions that are meant for potential couples to answer together.]

I see you’re thinking long term here, Professor. 

[Well, um, I figured that since we are going on a date, that may lead to a second date, and in turn-]

Cool it, hottie. No judgement from this end. Let’s just get on with these questions. 

*sipping of drink*

[Question one: “Given the chance of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”]

*long, drawn out sip of drink*

[Diana? You answer the question first.]

Oh, me? Okay. Well, I guess my dinner guest would be my…

[My?]

My...aunt. She may not be a Michelle Obama, but um, she raised me. My parents both died when I was six, and she took care of me from that point on. We had a falling out when I was eighteen and I moved around and never looked back. I would do anything for her to stop by one day and sit for dinner. 

[Oh. Wow. First off, I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine losing a parent, much less both of them. But also, that’s a great answer. My dinner guest would most likely be one of my philosophical heroes. I’m thinking Immanuel Kant. Or possibly Kierkegaard? God, I don’t know. On one hand Kant is one of my great heroes and I’d love to be able to speak with someone I’ve spent my life devoted to, but on the other hand, Kierkegaard is a philosopher whose works I’d best like to analyze with him, so this decision is incredibly taxing for a scenario which will never occur. Can I pick two?]

*long sigh* 

For the purpose of making sure we get past the 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 question, yes, Professor, you can pick two. 

[Thank God.]

*another sip* 

[Oh, yeah, I forgot. Your turn to ask a question. Here’s the paper.]

Alrighty then. Question two: “Would you like to be famous? In what way?” 

[I don’t think I’d like to be famous in the traditional way. Having your entire life public is too scary for me. I guess I’d like to be famous in my field. Write a book. Give a memorable lecture. Inspire someone to change their life for the better. If I’m only famous and awe-inspiring for one person, I’ve fulfilled my purpose.]

That’s really touching. Kinda makes me feel like a dick about my answer. 

[Why?]

Because I’d love to be rich and famous. I’d love to live the Hollywood lifestyle. It was, it was what my parents dreamed of. Right before they died, they were supposed to have their big break. They were supposed to be stars, and uprooting our life from Phoenix to L.A. was finally going to pay off. Of course, it all crashed and burned and I moved in with my aunt in Phoenix, but I’ve always wanted to go back. Always wanted to achieve what they didn’t. 

[That’s not selfish! Well, it is a little, but it is technically justifiable. All you want is the luxury you were promised in your childhood. I get it.]

Well, someone “getting it” is rare to find these days. How about the next question? 

[Okay. Question three: “Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?”]

Never. 

[Never?]

𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. Life is best lived in the moment. If I make a mistake, so what? Life keeps ticking along regardless. 

[I could never. I have to write out a card with what I say before I even start to rehearse. How do you do it?] 

Life is nothing but improv, and you are the actor. If you make things up, no one will ever be the wiser.

-

June 18, 2019  
Economy Seating Bathroom  
American Airlines Flight 919 from Phoenix, AZ to Sydney, Australia

For the record: 

I would not invite my aunt to be my dinner guest. (I would invite Kendall Jenner).  
I do not have an aunt.  
My parents were not actors. (One sold drugs and the other was a con artist).  
I have never lived in L.A.  
I do not want to follow in my parents footsteps. (Though I fear I already have). 

One thing was true in that entire exchange, and that was my last few words: 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘱, 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳. 

Who knows what the Professor did in those two days between the park and the cafe. (I refuse to call him Chidi, then and now, because lying is easier when you don’t truly know who you’re feeding your lies to). 

He could’ve looked up Diana Tremaine and noticed when no one like me showed up.  
He could’ve searched my image and found Facebook and other profiles for “Eleanor Shellstrop.” 

But he must’ve done neither because he was none the wiser. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> this was a blast to write and i hope it was enjoyable to read as well :))


End file.
